


The One with Cough Drops

by grapalicious



Series: L.E.S.A.M.I.S [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapalicious/pseuds/grapalicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Yeah, it's ridiculous." Grantaire rolled his eyes. "How dare someone think the mighty Apollo's work could be affected by a cold."</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>"No," Enjolras replied, "it's ridiculous because I'm not sick. I'm perfectly fine." Then he sneezed. Four times.</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>"Right," drawled Grantaire. "Do you want me to get you a tissue? Or a reality check?"</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>Enjolras wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve and glared at Grantaire. "Neither. Because I'm not sick."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The One with Cough Drops

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure we all do that thing when we're watching reruns of FRIENDS and we reimagine it with different characters from other fandoms.
> 
> Anyways, this is based on that episode where Monica is sick, denies it, and keeps trying to seduce Chandler.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I'm open to story ideas and suggestions. :)

Grantaire was in the middle of mixing yellow and white paint on a paper plate when Enjolras walked into the apartment. Checking the time, wondering if the hours had slipped away from him as they sometimes did when he painted, Grantaire saw that it was only 3 o'clock- right in the middle of when Enjolras usually had work study.

"Hey," he frowned at Enjolras, "I thought you were working? What happened?" He studied the other man and saw that Enjolras looked a bit frazzled, but still gorgeous, and he also looked less than happy. 

"They sent me home. Apparently, I can't work because I'm sick. It's ridiculous." Ah, it all made sense now. Enjolras's voice was lower and stuffier than normal. He also seemed more stubborn and sulky than normal.

"Yeah, it's ridiculous." Grantaire rolled his eyes. "How dare someone think the mighty Apollo's work could be affected by a cold."

"No," Enjolras replied, "it's ridiculous because I'm not sick. I'm perfectly fine." Then he sneezed. Four times.

"Right," drawled Grantaire. "Do you want me to get you a tissue? Or a reality check?"

Enjolras wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve and glared at Grantaire. "Neither. Because I'm not sick. I don't get sick. I haven't been sick since I was seventeen!"

Grantaire snorted. "Okay, I know that's a lie. I heard all about when Combeferre barricaded you in your room last year when you had the flu."

There suddenly seemed to be a very interesting spot on the ceiling that Enjolras decided to study. "Combeferre exaggerates," he muttered. "It wasn't the flu, it was... allergies."

"And you're in denial," Grantaire told him gently. "Why don't you go lay down? I'll make you some tea."

"I don't need tea! I'm not sick." Enjolras' gaze roamed over Grantaire's body. "But... I'll go to bed if you come with me."

"You want me to take a nap with you?"

"No," Enjolras huffed. "I want to have sex with you. So I can prove that I'm perfectly heathly and not sick at all." This was punctuated by another sneeze.

Grantaire groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Normally, I would be completely on board with that plan, despite your attempts at seduction leaving something to be desired. But you don't need sex right now, Enjolras. You need to rest."

Enjolras looked ready to put up more of a fight, but after a moment he just gave a short nod and said, "Fine," before going into the bedroom.

Grinning to himself in triumph, Grantaire picked up his paint and went back to work.

He was so completely absorbed in his painting that when he felt the press of lips against his neck, he almost jumped out of his skin.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed wildly, willing his heartbeat to slow to normal. He stared at the man beside him. "What the hell, Enjolras? I thought you went to bed!"

What Enjolras had apparently done was gone and changed. Now he was standing in the tightest pair of sweatpants and most form fitting t-shirt that he owned. It hugged his body very nicely and Grantaire couldn't help appreciating the view. Until he saw the smug look on Enjolras' flushed face.

Grantaire shook his head. "No."

"Why not?" Enjolras all but whined. "You're a healthy young man. I'm a healthy young man. You're always telling me that I look sexy when I wear this shirt. Let's have sex."

"Your seduction attempts still leave something to be desired," Grantaire muttered. "Okay yes, you do look sexy in that shirt." He really, really did and Grantaire took another second to admire just how well Enjolras filled out the shirt. But then he noticed the goosebumps on Enjolras' arms and the small shiver that went through his body.

"But you know what's even sexier than that shirt?" said Grantaire.

Enjolras perked up. "Me taking off the shirt?"

"No!" Grantaire grabbed him by the shoulders so he wouldn't try to start undressing. "A sweatshirt would be sexy. And maybe some socks. And blankets! Blankets are very, very sexy." He spun Enjolras around and began to steer him towards the bedroom.

Enjolras didn't resist but he said petulantly, "I'm not sick."

"No, you're a broken record."

He got Enjolras into bed easily, but when he tried to put the covers over Enjolras, a hand reached out and pulled him onto the bed as well.

In the next moment Grantaire was lying on his back and Enjolras was straddled on top of him.

"It'll be fun," Enjolras grinned him, running hands over Grantaire's chest. And Grantaire was almost tempted. Except that a second later Enjolras started coughing into the crook of his elbow. He still somehow managed to breathe out a, "Not sick," in between coughs.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow at him. "You're coughing, Enjolras."

He rolled Enjolras onto the bed and got up to rifle through the bathroom cabinets.

"I'm not coughing, I'm laughing."

"Laughing at what?"

"A joke Bahorel told the other day."

"What's the joke?" Grantaire grabbed the bag of cough drops he'd been searching for and went into the bedroom where Enjolras was visibly struggling not to cough.

"... I don't remember exactly how it goes."

"Alright, let's see if you can get the punchline to this one: what's red and gold and sick all over?"

"That's not a joke."

"It's really not," Grantaire agreed. He held the bag out of cough drops out to Enjolras who frowned at it but reluctantly took it and put one in his mouth.

Then Grantaire took pity on him because Enjolras had no right to look so adorably put out when he practically had snot running down his face. He cupped his hand around the back of Enjolras' neck and pulled him into a kiss.

He broke the kiss off with half a grin and half a grimace. "You taste like a mentholated cherry."

Enjolras only sniffed and continued sucking on his cough drop. There was a tired glaze to his eyes and he looked truly miserable.

Grantaire sighed. What was that saying? Misery loves company?

"You know what? My throat's feeling kind of funny. Could you hand me one of those cough drops? I think I might be coming down with something."

Enjolras studied Grantaire's face as he handed over the cough drops. "You really don't feel well?"

"I feel kind of lousy." He faked a yawn. "Think I could use a nap. Come on, lay down with me."

He made himself comfortable in bed and Enjolras seemed on the verge of protesting until he involuntarily let out a huge yawn. Grantaire had to bite his lip to keep from smirking victoriously.

"Okay," relented Enjolras. "Just for a little while." When he finally laid down, Grantaire wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close just to ensure Enjolras wouldn't be getting up and moving around any time soon.

Enjolras shifted his head on Grantaire's chest and blonde hair tickled Grantaire's nose. He sneezed.

"You better not get me sick," Enjolras mumbled sleepily. 

Grantaire barely resisted the urge to smack him with a pillow.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I just need about a hundred fics of Jehan in all sorts of Phoebe scenarios. Because if there's any true correlation between an Amis and a Friend it's between Jehan and Phoebe.


End file.
